Marie Howe

Every year, since 2005, I've been taking a retreat. I've been turning my back against the world for those few precious days, and just enjoying what is. I would go away for awhile, find some place in some city, and

Here is a woman who has my heart, again and again, forever and always. Her poems were extremely comforting when my grandfather died almost two years ago. Those few months I don't know if I'll ever be brave enough to

Writing poems about my grandfather. My heart still breaks a little each time. The Boy Marie Howe My older brother is walking down the sidewalk into the suburban     summer night: white T-shirt, blue jeans— to the field at the end of the street. Hangers Hideout the

I would ask my friends what I should do, but I know what they'll say: You're stupid, T., let him go. --------------------- My Dead Friends Marie Howe I have begun, when I’m weary and can’t decide an answer to a bewildering question to ask my dead